


Sootbreeze's Hope

by KayAlbatross



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Swiftbreeze is best mom, ThunderClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayAlbatross/pseuds/KayAlbatross
Summary: Kits are abandoned, helpless in the middle of Thunderclan's territory. Thunderclan needs time to recover from a harsh leaf-bare still, but something about these kits appeals to the leader's heart. Somehow, they may help everyone to recover.





	1. Prologue

It’s the dead of night when a ginger-and-white tabby reaches the edge of Thunderclan territory. The scent marker isn’t familiar, but she presses on. Her mate told her his “clan”- whatever that was- was just beyond the housefolk fences. Her kits mewling and complaining beside her told her that if it wasn’t close, they likely wouldn’t make it.

They’ve been here for hours now. Snow fell around them, numbing the near constant pain in her stumped half of a tail. One of the kits, small and shivering, pressed himself into belly tightly. He nosed into her, trying to latch on for milk and being pushed away with a hiss. She had nothing to offer him, as much as she wished she could.

“Hello?” Her voice is raspy, and she gives a loud, wet cough. She was sick, and her kits were well on their way to death’s door. One of them was already dead, back in a nest they’d had to leave.

“Please, anyone!” Her paws were stiff to the point she could barely feel them, and she knew her kits must’ve been half-dead. They stood in the snow for a moment as she tried to scent anything through the storm. 

It had to be the last storm of winter, and it had been hard for everyone on the streets. The housefolk were nicer and had been freer in giving their food, but that meant that every stray cat (and even a few house cats wanting more) were begging. Everyone took everyone’s food, and it just made it harder to bring home for kits. It made it harder to get in, to get something to eat, to do anything but hide under the dumpsters in stolen blankets.

“Mama, where are we going?” The squeaky voice came from the smallest of her kits, a calico with striped patches and bright amber eyes. Her white belly blended with the snowy covering of the forest floor, tail dragging through mud. She sniffs and almost immediately coughs. Her breathing is ragged, and her pelt clings to her small frame like a bag.

The tabby opens her mouth to speak, attempting to hush the she-kit and her siblings, but is quickly silenced by a cracking in the undergrowth. She hurries her kits behind a large tree root, peering around the strong oak with eyes widened by fear. Her breathing, already out of rhythm, becomes shakier at the noise and accompanied scents.

“Specklepaw, what are you- Why did you bring me out here?” Featherwhisker peers out after the apprentice and shakes his head. “What was the rush, can’t it wait out the storm?” The pale golden tabby continues through the snow, attempting to trace the scent she’d found earlier. The scent of sick still clung heavy in the air from the ginger queen and her litter.

“Please, Featherwhisker! They’re here somewhere still!” She spots a bright orange pelt in the snow, and suddenly the queen realizes one of her kits is missing. It takes all of her strength now to cry out to him, watching him shiver in place, crouched down in the snow. It’s harder to press herself further into the bark when the pretty little apprentice swiftly runs to the kit, curling around him and licking between his ears.

Her kit is soon clutched in the golden apprentice’s jaws, Specklepaw’s amber eyes pleading with Featherwhisker as he ventures further into the cold. The queen pushes her kits further into the crevice made by the tree-root and the snow that surrounds it, then dashes out. Her kits cry after her, scared and confused by her sudden disappearance.

The noise easily attracts Specklepaw and the medicine cat, who manage to soothe the small kits. They share a sorrowful glance as the catch the mother’s half-tail disappearing into the bracken headed towards the thunderpath but decide against following her. She’d left them with five tiny kits, half-starved and half dead now.

The medicine cat looked over the kits gingerly before scooping a thin tabby tom with spindly legs into his jaws. The tom’s twin bounded unsteadily beside the medicine cat and his brother, while two she-kits followed at a distance behind Specklepaw. Upon entry to the camp, the fearful crying of the kits was what woke the clan, all trying to see what the commotion was and whose kits were in distress.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the kits fight for their lives, Feathertail simply fights to let them into the clan

“We can’t send them out into the cold, Pinestar.” Featherwhisker stood firm in front of his leader. The dark tabby was groggy, having been in a dead sleep until the chaos of the kits hit camp. Swiftbreeze and Goosefeather were in the medicine den with them now, Specklepaw watching closely from the edge of the fern tunnel. Her sister Whitepaw lay beside her, calmly whispering that everything would be fine.

“We have so few warriors to train them… There are enough kits in the nursery now, and more on the way,” he hissed, his eyes catching on Poppydawn. His cousin was soon to have her own kits, two moons away now. She watched with wide eyes at the exchange as though the toms were deciding the fate of her own kits.  He gives her a curt nod and returns his attention back to the medicine cat apprentice.

“They’ll be apprentices before we know it, and the clan will need more kits. It’s only a wonder when one of our own warriors will bless us with more kits.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t one of our warriors that gave us these kits. They’re from the twolegplace, they’re sick and weak! What can we do with sick kits?”

“We heal them, we train them. We’ve had kits born in bouts of greencough, in bouts of starvation! You, of course, remember all the lives lost.” Sunfall came to sit beside the pair, cooly eyeing his leader while licking a paw. Pinestar only responds with an annoyed hiss.

“Would you not agree, Pinestar, that even the smallest stone can turn the tide for us?”

       Before he can answer, the yowl of a kit erupts from the medicine den. He leaves the deputy, nosing through ferns and into the medicine den with caution. What he found was a small orange and black calico kit standing defiantly between Goosefeather and two of her litter mates. Swiftbreeze stood back with the other she-kit, a sleek dull grey and fawn calico, and a much fluffier orange kit with a white underbelly. The warrior seemed to have trouble stifling the purr that threatened to rise from her chest at the attitude displayed toward their medicine cat.

       “Kit, do you want your brother to die?” Goosefeather spat viciously at the tiny kit, and his leader looked on in surprise when he spotted the thin line of red against Goosefeather's black nose. The kit had struck at a cat who was ten times her size! The bravery she showed to protect her siblings was certainly remarkable, and the determination in her bright golden eyes seemed to burn through anything before her.

        “Little one,” Pinestar began as the calico finally allowed the medicine cat to examine her brothers, “do you have a name?” She smoothed her fur slowly, despite it still sticking out like a small mane. The calico shook her head, eyes never leaving the large brown tabby before her.

         “Would you mind if I were to give you one?” The leader wouldn't admit it, but he seemed to have found a favorite among the kits already. He was already considering mentoring her, if she were to make it. Looking among the other kits, he wasn’t sure. They were all thin, all a bit small. They seemed no bigger than a moon, but acted and reacted as though they were older. The kit cocks her head in confusion.

“Okay.” The little kit swishes her tail back and forth impatiently, one of her ears flicking at every new sound from her brothers and sister behind her. Goosefeather began to pull stocks of catmint, borage, and a few others he didn’t know the names of. Pinestar had never been one to remember the herbs when he was in the medicine den. It only reminded him of the worst times.

“How does Falconkit sound to you, little one?” The kit’s face screws into one of confusion and disappointment, paws shifting under her weight like the upset kit she was. Her tail furled neatly around her paws, a fluffy mess tangled with sticks and leaves.

“But I don’t want to be called a kit forever. I want a name like hers.” She looks back to Swiftbreeze, and the leader ourrs in his amusement. He crouches down to look the kit in the eye, noting the soft way Swiftbreeze watches the calico.

“Well, then you can stay here. You can earn your warrior name, just as Swiftbreeze did. She used to be Swiftkit, you know. And I used to be called Pinekit.” He pressed his nose to hers. “I’m called Pinestar now. Our warriors go by many names throughout their life, little kit. So again… How does Falconkit sound?”

There’s a silent pause as the kit stops to think about her choice. The thin kit then looks up to the leader, nodding slowly. Her eyes glance back over her shoulder at Swiftbreeze, who’s now helping Goosefeather to coax the twin white-and-ginger tabbies into swallowing a small bundle of herbs each.

“I like it. But… What about them?” Her eyes never left her siblings, the sister who coughed and sniffed, the fluffiest kit’s nose running terribly, the twins whose fever ran so hot he wondered if it would melt snow. Pinestar sighed heavily, and his eyes met those of Swiftbreeze.

“Swiftbreeze and the other queens will name them. The elders may be of some help, as well.” The grey tabby nods and settles to groom one of the twin kits. Pinestar turns to leave, followed by an irritated Goosefeather who simply decided to let his nose continue bleeding. Feathertail quickly replaces him, tail flicking to beckon another cat towards Pinestar.

Specklepaw meets him at the entrance with her head held low, refusing to meet his eyes. Instead of the anger that she’d expected, Pinestar greets her with a low purr and eyes shining. He brushes past her gently and bounds to the highrock, calling a familiar greeting to the clan and watching as they slowly sprung to life in the rising dawn light. A quiet chatter forms among them.

“My fellow warriors, you may have noticed the fuss. Early this morning, Specklepaw led Feathertail out into the forest without telling any of us what was happening. What the two found was a litter of kits on the verge of death. It is their courage that brought the kits to us and has quite possibly saved their lives.

It is this courage that we stride towards in every day as warriors, and it is with great honor that I do this today. Specklepaw!”

The apprentice lifts her head and meets the eyes of her leader. Her expression reveals her shock, but the pale apprentice steps forward from her place among her clanmates.

“Speckletail, we admire your courage and heart, and welcome you as a full member of our clan.” Her eyes sparkled, and he caught her mouthing her new name to herself. The clan around her shouted the name to the heavens, reveling in the news. Her foster siblings gathered around her, Tawnyspots teasingly asking what took her so long, Thrushpaw and Dapplepaw excitedly mewing about their own ceremonies that  _ had to be soon now, right Thrushpaw?  _  Whitepaw beside them nodding along cheerfully.

The new kits stood beside Swiftbreeze at the mouth of the medicine  den, jumping excitedly as they watched Swiftbreeze’s own two kits across the way at the nursery. The two stared at them from their place beside a heavily pregnant Moonflower, who was due to kit any day now. The nursery would be overflowing with kits, once this litter joined them. Pinestar could only wish the queens luck in raising them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I really think I'm out of character the most? I'm sorting through Pinestar, trying to find where his personality lies. I feel I did decent with Swiftbreeze, though, and I'm definitely proud of the apprentices. Speckletail's ceremony isn't exactly formal, but neither was Moonflowers or Crookedjaw's? I'm thinking about keeping Pinestar somewhere between the two, for the most part.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moonflower's kitting sends the kits out into the heart of camp to keep out of the way.

“Swiftbreeze, Swiftbreeze!” Leopardkit batted at her mother’s ears, her fearscent and the smell of blood mixing in the den. Swiftbreeze stretched carefully and counted her kits. Leopardkit, Patchkit, Amberkit… Falconkit lay close, draped over the edge of the nest and nearly falling out of it. The other three were still in the medicine den, but the longer-pelted kits had been lucky enough to be released together.  


Leopardkit continued to box her mother’s ears, whimpering slightly and jabbing a paw in Moonflower’s direction. The queen was moaning through her pains, flank rising and falling rapidly in time with her breathing. Of course, the queen was kitting now.  


“Mousedung… Kits, I’d like you to go out into the clearing.” By the light streaming into the nursery, it was almost midday by now. Goosefeather would likely be out sunning himself already, which was lucky for them all. The grey tabby queen jerked her head to the entrance, heaving herself out of the nest and giving her kits a nudge each to move them as well.  


“And fetch Featherwhisker while you’re out there!” The kits ran out, Falconkit quickly pushing her way to the lead position. Amberkit was the last out, leaning heavily against Leopardkit as she started for the medicine den. Falconkit and Patchkit decided against following them in, and instead went to nose their way into the apprentice den in search of their older playmates.  


“Featherwhisker, Swiftbreeze is asking for you in the nursery,” called Leopardkit as they made their way inside. Inside sat Amberkit’s littermates, being forced to swallow herbs like they’d been doing every few days since being brought to the camp a quarter moon ago. They mewed their hellos as Feathertail glanced back at the newcomers.  


“Is everything alright?” He pulls away from the kits, watching Sootkit twitch her nose and sneeze.  
In such a short time, the kits were gaining their strength fast. It seemed as though they’d only been cursed with whitecough and poor hunting before being here. The kits would easily gain the weight they’d likely never had. It was the beauty of kits, in Featherwhisker’s opinion. Once they were past a certain point, they bounced back so easily.  


“It’s Moonflower… She smells of blood, and Swiftbreeze told us to go outside.” It’s Amberkit that responds, forming the words around a yawn. He falls against his foster-sister in the process, but quickly rights himself. He licks his chest fur, embarrassed and hoping no one had seen him. Despite his wishes, Beekit and Spring kit purred from their nest.  
The two were nearly identical, white-and-ginger tabbies like their mother. They each had a blaze down the middle of their nose, veering the opposite way of the other’s. Their blue eyes were dull with sickness, but slowly beginning to gain back their light.  


Sootkit glared at the two. She was the dull colored calico she-kit, with eyes the color of honey. She was shy in comparison to her littermates, but about as stubborn and commanding as kits came. She was easily their mother’s little helper before being taken to Thunderclan, and planned to continue keeping her brothers in line.  


“Can they come play with us today?” Patchkit called from the clearing before being quickly tackled by Falconkit. Featherwhisker shook his head as he passed, carrying a bundle of leaves out to the nursery. A collective groan came from the kits, something that Sunfall heard from his sunning place between the medicine den and the Highrock.  


“They can play with you soon enough.” He rolled onto his back, stretching and glancing at the nursery. He rolled back to his paws swiftly and flicked his tail, beckoning the young kits closer. “Amberkit, Leopardkit, you both as well.” The bright deputy started for the elders’ den with a twitch of his whiskers.  


“Larksong,” he called to his mother, who looked up from her corner with an excited purr. “Would you be able to tell some of the kits a story?”  
The old, ragged tortoiseshell stretched and padded out of her den, much to the pleasure of the two grouchy toms she shared it with. The old queen had always enjoyed kits, and Mumblefoot and Weedwhisker would do them no good. The older pair still hadn't stopped moaning about the snow damp moss Thrushpaw had brought in before his assessments.  


“Sunfall, why don't you stay with us?” Her eyes light up when she hears familiar yowling from the nursery. New kits always brought joy to her heart. “I see why they're all out here, now.”  
The deputy only nods, watching as Stormtail briefly eyed the nursery and then left camp almost as quickly. He'd certainly have to speak with the stoick tom at some point. Tomorrow, he decided, after the kits are born.  


“He should be by her side,” Larksong commented, a low growl in her voice. “Your father was with me every second. We thought he'd move into the nursery with us, for a time.” The four kits stared at her awkwardly, heads inclined, Falconkit half on Patchkit's shoulders as she half-heartedly nipped one of his ears.  


“How about…” Larksong started with a purr. “How about I tell you the time Swiftbreeze got stuck in the reeds?” The kits nodded eagerly, and so Larksong started into a long-winded story. By now, she knew how to spin the tale just right to leave the truth and still make it exciting enough for the kits.  


Somehow, Falconkit had managed to fall asleep during the stories, suckling on Patchkit's tail, Patchkit curled into his smaller foster sibling. Amberkit stared with wide eyes, enraptured by the idea of long-mained Lionclan. He'd puffed out his chest with some help from the now wide awake Mumblefoot, trying to look like the warriors of old. Leopardkit sat beside him, tail curled beautifully around her paws, eyes shining with the excitement that she shared with her nestmate. Sootkit, who'd been deemed healthy enough to come and at least sit in for a story, had curled up close to Larksong for warmth. Her warm, honey eyes were tired, but tracked the elder as she spoke excitedly. Sunfall had long left the little party of kits and elders, pacing by the nursery entrance as though Moonflower’s kits were his own.  
It wasn’t until Pinestar bounded up the highrock that the sleepy kits began to stir from their places. Sunfall began to relax some not long after, Featherwhisker poking his head out of the nursery to watch. Swiftbreeze squeezed out beside him, nodding to Larksong and her kits.  


“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting,” called Pinestar with an excited twitch of his whiskers. He twitched his tail happily at a look shared between him and the apprentice medicine cat. Goosefeather was just returning to camp with a meager amount of cobwebs tucked under his chin, and seemed rather oblivious to what had been happening about the camp most of the morning.  


“Today, our clan has the privilege of not only welcoming a new warrior, but it seems some future warriors as well.” Featherwhisker nodded as if to urge on his leader, silently padding forward to join the clan.  


“Thrushpaw!” Pinestar shouted excitedly, beckoning the senior apprentice forward. “Adderfang seems rather proud of how your assessments were carried out today. I feel you will continue to make us all proud. Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?”  
Thrushpaw’s pelt prickled with excitement, and beside her siblings, so did that of Falconkit. She perked up and stared at the scene with unwavering attention, and an excited spark lit in her eyes. Larksong’s whiskers twitched in her amusement as she watched the young kit.  


“I do,” came the apprentice’s soft but strong voice.  


“From this day forward, you will be known as Thrushpelt. Starclan, as well as Thunderclan, admire your kindness and strength.” The leader’s attention shifted to Featherwhisker, and the two shared a quiet word.  


“As well as welcoming Thrushpelt to our clan though, we also welcome Bluekit and Snowkit, and look forward to the great things these kits will bring us.” The clan launched into yowls of the new warrior’s name, as well as quieter chatter and cheers of the two kits. Goosefeather even managed to join in, before pushing past Swiftbreeze into the nursery.  
Despite the excitement, Stormtail sat quietly, glancing to the nursery, and then to Thrushpelt. He padded forward to give a curt word of congratulations, then ducked into the warrior’s den without a word.  


“Mumblefoot?” comes Amberkit’s slightly too loud attempt at a whisper, nosing the mangy brown tom. His small face was screwed into an expression of confusion, and he fidgeted his paws in place. “Why isn’t Stormtail excited about the kits? Mother said that our father was when he came to visit us…”  


“Well, kit, toms don’t get as excited as the she-cats.” Mumblefoot tried to say it firmly, as if to leave no room for question. Still, being a kit, Amberkit opened his mouth again to speak.  


“I don’t think you kits have told us anything about your father,” interjected Larksong with a gentle, prodding voice. Her eyes met Mumblefoots, and he gave a sigh of relief.  


“Mother never really said his name a lot, but we got to meet him once.” Sootkit was the one to answer, licking her paw and using it to smooth the fur between her ears.  


“He was so big! All grey and white, and his tail fur was so long and soft…” Falconkit seemed to dance as she stood, spinning around and flopping down onto Amberkit. He squeaked and fell, his sister on top of him, now nuzzling into his soft, long fur. The two elders purred, and Patchkit soon joined into the kit pile with a mischievous twitch of his whiskers. Leopardkit watched them warily, batting and boxing at tails that came her way.  


Pinestar watched the kits from afar, nudging out twins Springkit and Beekit with permission from Featherwhisker, who’d finally taken a look at the kits now that Moonflower was settled. The twins decided to clumsily stalk after their littlermates, and soon the clan had seven kits rolling around in the clearing. New Leaf was welcoming them warmly this year, and Thunderclan seemed ready to meet it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a slight mess. However, Thrushpelt seems close to Adderfang in Spottedleaf's Heart, and it makes me think he may have been Thrushpelt's mentor? And I did push a little further into my idea that Stormtail doesn't exactly like kits. He's not really father material. Not that he isn't proud of them, no, but more he has no idea what to do with them. He never outright gets hostile about them, but he just doesn't interact well.  
> But no, Mumblefoot and Larksong seemed good to use for these guys, and I feel like Sootkit and Falconkit kind of helped with who their father is? At least enough to say it's not anyone we know. I do like that the prologue had people expecting them to be Pinestar's? But no, no Tigerstar siblings here.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kits become paws and a leader takes his first apprentice.

Swiftbreeze had started their morning by herding the kits out into the clearing, pride shining like stars in her eyes. Three moons had been all it took for the queen to take these kits in as her own. The splotchy grey tabby had pinned Amberkit gently, grooming his ears and trying to flatten the mane he’d begun to develop.  
“So it’s today?” asked Leopardpaw, slinking out of the apprentice den. Her eyes wander to meet Robinwing’s, her mentor laying out in the sun and sharing a squirrel with her mate, Fuzzypelt. The senior warriors shared a thoughtful look, then nodded to Leopardpaw and Patchpaw, who was making his way to join his mother and foster siblings.  
“Yes, today.” Swiftbreeze examined the younger kits briefly, then dove into taming Amberkit’s pelt once more. She took a moment to point to Falconkit with her nose, and the two apprentices began helping the younger she-kit to clean herself. “Pinestar says some time after the dawn patrol returns.”  
“What’s today, Swiftbreeze?” Springkit bounced and thrashed his tail wildly in his excitement, stirring more dust into his pelt. Beekit batted at his tail from beside him, giving a loud mrow.  
“It, you mousebrain!” Falconkit beamed proudly, head held high for such a small kit. Despite them all being six moons of age, Falconkit was still incredibly small for an (almost) apprentice. Despite Swiftbreeze’s pleading to keep her in the nursery for another moon, it was Goosefeather’s words that finally quieted the queen. Falconkit would simply be a small cat her whole life, likely no bigger than some of the future apprentices.  
“Falconkit, mind your tongue. Your brother was only asking a question.” The foster-mother’s tone was calm and firm, striking a glare at her own kits who had started to laugh at the kit’s attitude. “Patchpaw, you’re only encouraging her. Starclan can only pray she’ll be given a mentor who can stamp that out of her.”  
“Swiftbreeze, she can’t help but be excited. We didn’t think we’d get to be warriors when we were smaller.” Sootkit kneaded the ground anxiously, mud working its way into her paw fur.  
Mumblefoot couldn’t help but let out a pur as he padded by, depositing a fat vole next to the fresh-kill pile. He shook his head slowly. “You’re still pretty small, kits,” he teased gently, picking out a mouse for himself.  
Before Springkit could puff up to defend himself and his littermates, Pinestar made to bound up highrock. He stood patiently, watching the patrol come through the bracken and drop catches, carefully watching the way Stormtail nodded his hello to his kits.  
His position had gathered cats long before the leader could think to call to them, something of which he was grateful for. It certainly made things easier on his part, and the previous knowledge some of his clanmates had them sitting towards the front of the crowd.  
“Three moons ago, we were given kits from a queen out of Twolegplace,” he began. The kits all seemed a bit sheepish at mention of their absent mother, something that wasn’t helped by the negative glaring from some of their clanmates. “We took them in gladly, elated to gain new warriors to our clan.” His eyes fell on the kits, more specifically the two she-cats.  
“Sootkit! From this day forward, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sootpaw.” The grey calico had barely managed to make her way forward before her name was said. Her pelt felt warm, all eyes on her, as Pinestar continued on. “Swiftbreeze, despite being your closest to kin in this clan, will be your mentor. We hope that she will foster your curiosity and kind heart, as well as pass on all that she knows.”  
The tabby queen stood beside her apprentice, turning her head to touch their noses together. The two were gentle, and a pride swelled in Swiftbreeze’s eyes. “You’re doing fine,” she whispered to her new apprentice.  
“Springkit, you yourself have reached your six moons along with your siblings. Stormtail is a fine warrior, and I hope he will pass along his knowledge to you, as well as shaping you into the warrior you are meant to be.” A small murmur erupts around the crowd of cats, nodding their approval. Springkit had grown to be a nuisance, and their hopes were all that Stormtail would focus his energy positively. “From this day forward, you will be know as Springpaw.”  
Next came Beekit, who was given to Windflight, an older gray tabby tom who’d recently finished training Dappletail. The newly named Beepaw had eagerly trotted to touch his nose to Windflight’s, and in his excitement had nearly tripped over his too-large paws multiple times.  
Following his brother was Amberkit, assigned to the young Speckletail. Many warriors agreed it to be a test to the new warrior, taking on an apprentice now. Her brother, Tawnyspots, had scoffed jealousy at the gentle way she met Amberpaw.  
“What did you tell me?” Whiteye asked her denmate, refusing to hide the mischief in her voice. “It’ll be your time soon enough?” She laughed gently, prodding him with a forepaw.  
“Lastly, Falconkit.” Pinestar drew attention back quickly, warriors doing their best to not be seen looking amongst each other for who the fifth mentor named would be. Large litters like this were seldom, and few warriors remained. Tawnyspots puffed out his chest despite uncertainty of being chosen.  
“You have reached six moons of age and may begin your training. Until you receive your warrior name, you will now be known as Falconpaw. I will be your mentor, and I hope that I serve you and Starclan well in this.” A few warriors perked at this, despite Pinestar’s regular disinterest in taking an apprentice. As it stood already, he’d never had one. His being appointed deputy had been rather odd and done through dire need during the Great Hunger.  
Falconpaw stared with wide orange eyes at her new mentor, shocked and confused by the assignment. Her siblings shared her confusion from various places in the crowd, sitting in a way that they blended in beside their new mentors.  
It was Patchpaw and Leopardpaw that broke the small silence, shouting the names of their new denmates to the skies, letting Starclan hear them. The clan joined in quickly, then disbanded into a more normal pattern.  
Falconpaw had been allowed to go make her nest among the apprentice den, followed by Beepaw. Springpaw followed his new mentor into the forest with disdain, walking alongside Leopardpaw and Robinwing. Swiftbreeze and Speckletail both beckoned their apprentices to their side, Speckletail with more hesitance as she attempted to copy the senior warrior.  
“I was thinking that if Speckletail would like, she and Amberpaw will join us in the forest. Sootpaw, I was hoping to show you the territories.”  
“I’d love to, Swiftbreeze!” There was a practiced ease that Swiftbreeze seemed to have, having borrowed her mate’s apprentice more than once. Amberpaw watched the exchange with a strange silence, nodding to his mentor’s enthusiasm.  
“I’d suggest avoiding the Riverclan border, Swiftbreeze.” Adderfang spoke up as he brushed against his mate gently. “They’ve been seen exploring the Sunningrocks. Goosefeather says one even brought their kits along.” He gives a low purr, a suggestive look in his eyes.  
“We’ll be safe, Adderfang.” She purrs her response, tail entwining with his briefly before starting off with two apprentices and a young warrior in tow.  
The ravine was the first challenge to the two new apprentices, the pair having only been through this way going in. Swiftbreeze hadn’t been one to take the kits outside of camp, despite the near begging of warriors. They’d instead explored dens when they could sneak in, and challenged each other to practice stalking the smaller kits that were now crowding the nursery.  
“Can you help me…?” Amberpaw asked meekly, watching his sister struggle to climb for a third time. Speckletail only nodded and picked up the apprentice as she’d done moons before, helping him to leave the camp rather than taking him into it.  
It took a few more attempts from Sootpaw to climb the ravine, having stubbornly insisted she didn’t need the help from her foster-mother. She began to cling to the senior warrior’s side, trying to fall into step with her and at one point almost leading the group.  
They were brought along the thunderpath, and luckily had been able to smell Shadowclan from the other side. The two ‘paws excitement had been a bit much, and even briefly drew the attention of a passing patrol. Somehow, one of the Shadowclan cats easily understood the first tour of an apprentice and moved their clanmates along quickly.  
Amberpaw had begun to get excited as they headed for the Great Sycamore, claiming to have remembered it from their journey with their mother. Speckletail was surprised at first, then quickly remembered the familiar path and beginning to search through the trees for a sign of the half-tailed tabby again. When that gave them no results, they continued on towards Tall Pines and through to the Twolegplace fences.  
Toward Twolegplace had been where Swiftbreeze stopped them, sitting the two apprentices down to talk about their mother, telling them they could never be warriors with paws in different worlds. The apprentices seemed confused, but continued their tour without asking for further explanation. Who were they to go to Twolegplace, anyway? They barely remembered any of their time spent there, and refused to speak of the mother that left them.  
It was almost sunset when the four returned to camp, Swiftbreeze carrying mice by their tails and proudly telling anyone who would listen that one of them was almost caught by her apprentice. In truth, Amberpaw had almost stepped on the small creature and she had swooped in for the killing bite before it could get away from them.  
“So what did you do all day, Springpaw?” Amberpaw asked when they’d been settled down into nests, much to the annoyance of an exhausted Patchpaw.   
“Leopardpaw and Stormtail started me learning battle moves!” A yowl sounded from across camp, telling them to quiet down if they could be heard from across camp. It was in the ensuing fit of giggles that the young cats somehow found sleep, dreams of mice and warrior names running through their minds like wildfires.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm fairly certain I'm out of character. I'm trying my best right now. Please have some patience.


End file.
